


A Galaxy Far, Far Away

by Siria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-28
Updated: 2006-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 20:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because if you looked closely at the movie, they really weren't as cute as they seemed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Galaxy Far, Far Away

"I don't know," Ronon said. "Think they're kinda cute." Teyla was too busy tickling one under the chin—and doing something that sounded disturbingly like cooing to Rodney's ears—to say anything.

John and Rodney, however, were still standing on the steps which led away from the 'gate. Rodney's eyes were wide, and John was clutching his P-90 very tightly.

"Mass hallucination?" Rodney said out of the corner of his mouth. "It could be a mass hallucination." He was never, ever eating the concoction which the mess referred to as 'Athosian Surprise' ever again.

"No," John said finally, distantly, "I'm pretty sure they're there."

Rodney blinked once, twice. Yeah, still there.

"Good," he said, "I'd hate for George Lucas to sue my subconscious for copyright infringement. I wouldn't put it past him, do you know how many copies of the original trilogy I own now, and still he wants more, the money-grubbing basta— though, wait. If they were here all along, does that mean he somehow stole their image? Used them as a model? Could we get them to sue? Unless the Ancients genetically engineered them—they seem to have gone in for the big-eyed cute thing— in which case maybe we could get _Chaya_ to sue him. Although maybe there might be some legal complications from the fact that she's really not even a _resident_ alien, let alone the fact that she's technically _dead_—"

"Rodney," John interrupted him, trying to bring the conversation back to a much more important matter. "_Ewoks_."

"Yes," Rodney said as one of the littlest Ewoks worked up the bravery to climb up the steps and began a serious exploration of Rodney's left trouser leg. "Well, there is that. Come on, come on, get off me," he muttered, shaking his leg. "You're clingier than my first dissertation supervisor on tequila, and she was like a really horny octopus, not that I think much about marine sex—"

The baby Ewok ignored him; just looked up at him with enormous brown eyes and cooed at him, a long liquid gurgle that said _trust me_ and _take care of me_ and possibly _feed me all the products in your tac vest which contain refined sugar._ John could actually see Rodney melt, see his mouth soften and the line of his shoulders fall as he reached down to ruffle behind its ears. "You're not such a bad little fellow, I suppose," Rodney said awkwardly. "Would you like a powerbar? What am I saying, it's chocolate, of course, of course you'd like one."

John found it kind of disturbing. Rodney actually looked _soft_ and _open_ and other words which should never, ever be associated with Rodney McKay.

That disturbed, unsettled feeling wasn't helped when he looked around the little Ewok village, and saw how dozens of Ewoks were slowly turning into hundreds, and how a sizeable proportion of those were carrying vicious-looking weapons. John eyed the meat roasting over the central cook-fire suspiciously—it looked an awful lot like—and felt his stomach turn over slowly.

And his mom told him that rewatching the trilogy until the VHS tapes died would never come in useful.

"Rodney, Ronon, Teyla," John said carefully, flexing his hands on the grip of his P-90. "Maybe we should think about moving back towards the gate, nice and slow."

Ronon and Teyla joined him right away, having learned some time ago that it was best to obey John at moments like this, if only so that he wouldn't pout outrageously at them later; but "What? What? Why?" Rodney said; he was currently engaged in finding the ticklish patches on the baby's stomach.

John poked him in the side and pointed in the direction of what was presumably the chief Ewok, who was chittering angrily and shaking a spear in the air. All around the clearing, the other Ewoks were humming and muttering, and none of them sounded pleased.

Rodney's eyes widened, and he slowly disentangled himself from the baby Ewok's grasp, taking a slow step backwards until he bumped into Teyla.

"Because I—," John muttered to him, as Teyla started to punch the address for Atlantis into the DHD.

Rodney glanced over at him, then did a little double-take when he saw the careful expression on John's face. "Oh, don't _even_," Rodney said.

"—I have a _bad feeling_ about this," John finished, very innocently, though he felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth.

The wormhole flared bright and blue behind them, the roaring rush of something almost like water, but even that couldn't drown out Rodney snapping "Oh, that's it; no blowjobs for a _month_, young padawan."


End file.
